


Head Over Feet

by nursedrangus



Category: Actor RPF, Criminal Minds, Matthew Gray Gubler RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Roommates, SO MUCH FLUFF, criminal minds - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-09 23:25:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13492011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nursedrangus/pseuds/nursedrangus
Summary: Izzy was new to LA and living out of her suitcase.Matthew was in need of a more permanent solution to his house sitting situation.When Izzy answers a sketchy "roommate wanted" ad in the paper out of desperation, she is surprised to find herself in front of a large West Hollywood home, and even more surprised when she meets the owner.This begins in 2011, during the filming for season 7 of Criminal Minds.





	Head Over Feet

_Roommate wanted: West Hollywood_

_Must be clean and discrete. No pets. Non smoker. M or F. $700/month. Utilities included.  Call (555) 555-5555._

 

I circled the ad in a pink sharpie. Despite the obvious lack of information such as house size or number of roommates, it was the only ad that didn't give me the heebie-jeebies. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't even be answering wanted ads. However, I couldn't stand sleeping on a couch in my best friend's one bedroom apartment another second. I had only been in LA for a week, but I was losing my mind. My desperation for my own space grew every time she brought her boyfriend home, which was nightly. If I was going to be here long term, I was going to have my own room. With a door.

I dialed the number, putting the phone to my ear. A woman answered, sounding agitated. 

"Yeah, I'm answering the roommate wanted ad?" I heard her sigh before she began rattling off a list of things I needed to do before I could even see the place. 

"You'll need to submit an application, proof of income, background check, references, and proof of employment. You will also need to sign a nondisclosure agreement. The owner will review your application prior to contacting you. He will only contact you to tour the property if he finds your application and references satisfactory."

"Wait. You aren't the owner?"

"Obviously, I am not. Do you want me to email the application?" 

I hesitated. Not seeing the property or dealing directly with the owner was a little, no, VERY odd, but desperate people do desperate things.

"Yeah, send me the application." I figured, why not try. 

**-A week later-**

The search for a place to live hit a wall. I still hadn't heard from the owner of the West Hollywood house, and by this point I didn't expect to. Probably for the better; I wasn't sure I wanted to get involved with that kind weirdness. 

It was Friday night, and I was finishing a long stretch of 12 hour days. The nice thing about being a registered nurse working in a busy hospital was all the overtime I could pick up. 

I clocked out and checked my phone. 

Nothing.

Sighing, I grabbed the rest of my belongings. Once I had clocked out, I left the floor then the building. The night air was warm, and the sun was only just beginning to set. I began the walk home, hoping tonight would be the one night I could have some peace and quiet. My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of my phone ringing. The number wasn't familiar, though I recognized the area code as belonging to Las Vegas. Against my better judgment, I answered. 

"Hello?"

"Hi. Is this Isobel James?" The voice was male, soft, and seemed friendly. 

"Yes. May I ask who is calling?" 

"My name is Matthew. I placed the ad for a roommate. I'm calling to see if you'd like to meet?" 

It took everything in me to not squeal in delight. "Um, yeah. That would be great."

"Awesome, listen. I have a very busy schedule, and my free time this week is very limited. Are you available in an hour?" He stopped speaking, and I could hear voices in the background. 

"Actually, I am. I just got off work." 

He began talking rapidly, naming a restaurant not far from where I was currently living. He let me know he would likely be early, and described himself so I could find him. I agreed to the time and location as I quickened my pace. 

I managed to get home with enough time to change into cropped jeans, a t shirt and slip on sneakers. I put on a little make up and shook out my waist length auburn hair, happy the wavy texture hid the dents the rubber band made from having it in a pony tail all day. Grabbing a light jacket, I made my way to the small restaurant down the street. 

The place was packed with young professionals and wanna be actors. I was immediately grateful Matthew described himself in detail as the hostess had no clue what I was talking about when I told her I was meeting someone. 

I set about to find a man matching the description Matthew gave me. Brown hair, slender, early 30s, purple chuck taylors. 

Seeing many men who met his description, I began looking at shoes. After a few minutes of looking, I realized he wasn't there. Seeing how packed the restaurant was, I decided to wait out front. Getting a table as likely not in the cards. I had just placed myself on a bench outside when my cell phone rang. 

The same Vegas area code. "Hello." 

"I am so sorry," he said immediately. "I thought I was done for the day, and then something came up."

I empathized. "Listen, if anyone gets being stuck at work, it's me. I get it." The man chuckled.

"I know it's getting late, but I would still like to meet you to see if it's a good fit. Without sounding too incredibly creepy, would you like to meet me at the house? I can give you a tour, and we can chat at bit? I completely understand it if you say no"

I thought about it for a moment. A strange man was asking me to come to his house at 830 at night. No one knew where I was. On the other hand, Sarah's boyfriend showed up as I was leaving.

"I guess that could work. Where am I going?"

"Don't worry about that. I will send a car. Are you still at the restaurant?"

"I am, but really? A car? I can take a cab-"

"Nope. Too late. Already taken care of. I was actually banking on you saying yes, so the car will be there soon. The driver has your name. See you soon."

With that, he hung up. Less than 10 minutes later, a black sedan drove up. A man got out and made eye contact with me. "Isobel?"

I nodded, too shocked to answer. I slid into the backseat, dumbstruck at the events of the last two hours. The driver climbed into the car and began the drive. 

20 minutes later, the car pulled into a secluded driveway. My breath caught in my throats as I looked up at the huge building. It was older, but well maintained. A charming turret adorned the front of the house, and the surrounding greenery added to its charm.

The sun had set, and lights were on inside. I had only just stepped out of the car when the front door opened and a young man jogged down the steps. 

He held out his hand, and as I grabbed it to shake it, my mouth fell open.

Matthew Gray Gubler was shaking my hand.


End file.
